


finding us

by meggiewrites



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Manu Being Very Sappy, Middle Chapter is just Smut, Self-Acceptance, Thomas being Thomas, Very Light Past Internalized Homophobia, birthday fic, these tags are a mess, wedding anniversary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 08:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23468386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: One year ago, Manuel got married. Over that time, he’s found out that constantly falling in love with each other is just as inevitable as it is magical. And so, he finds Thomas every day anew – loving him a bit more with every morning that comes and goes.
Relationships: Thomas Müller/Manuel Neuer
Comments: 23
Kudos: 39





	1. Thursday

**Author's Note:**

> .... yes I am aware that I'm over a week late. I apologize for that, and for how a bit messy and unfinished this might seem to me – literally, as it's one chapter of maybe two or three of many genres mixed together. I hope you enjoy it nevertheless!
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual, and since I am posting this at 0:30 in the morning, please feel free to point me in the direction of any issues ^^'
> 
> (also, this wouldn't even be a thing without my friends cheering my writing on. love you all <333)
> 
> Inspired, of course, by the [**wedding series**](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1453375) I co-wrote with [my best friend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxverstappens/pseuds/maxverstappens) last year ^^ (and yes I am MAD that you can't link series as inspiration on here)

Their first wedding anniversary starts better than expected in the sense that Manuel, surprisingly, gets to wake up in Thomas’ arms.

If everything had gone as it should have, he would have been spending the night in an unfamiliar bed instead, in a hotel in Madrid, and it would have been the morning before Germany’s game against Spain. If he’d gotten lucky, he maybe would have heard Thomas’ voice once that day, when they would have been able to call in the evening, or maybe, at the very most, an additional second time over the course of the day.

No, even four weeks ago still, Manu would have thought this – Thomas’ arm around his waist, Manu’s head on Thomas’ chest, his head nudged gently against the underside of Thomas’ jaw, the soft sunlight of the approaching spring filtering through their curtains spreading warm fingers over their bodies – to be impossible.

And yet, here they are.

The world is a strange place at the moment, Manu thinks, strange and even terrifying in some ways; how quickly everything has changed, how things no one thought possible have suddenly become the new normal. But this entire situation has given him one blessing, and that is that he doesn’t have to spend this special day without the man he loves.

It’s rare that Manu wakes up before Thomas, but today he does, squinting his eyes when the room is brighter than he expected. They must have forgotten to fully close the curtains last night, he realizes, before stretching, a yawn exiting his lips, almost knocking his arm against Thomas’ jaw in the process. He misses it just so, and blinks at his husband with heavy eyelids, shuffling around a bit, turning on his stomach before pushing his head up ever so slightly, nuzzling into the crook of Thomas’ neck both in the search for affection and in a sleepy attempt to wake him up.

When Thomas doesn’t stir, he presses a soft kiss against his jaw instead, mumbling against coarse, stubbled skin.

“Hmm, Thommy.”

Another kiss follows and this time Manu lets his lips linger longer, resting against Thomas’ neck until he can feel Thomas’ pulse pick up ever so slightly, making him smile.

“Nunu? What time’s it?”

Thomas’ voice is always rougher than usual in the mornings – deeper, too. It sends a shiver down Manu’s spine but he ignores that for now, yawning again as he cuddles up to Thomas’ lean, warm body like a kitten, sighing contentedly when the arm around his waist tightens and he can feel a kiss being pressed onto his hair. When he settles again, he shrugs with one shoulder.

“Eight, I guess? Why?”

Thomas chuckles. “‘Cause you’re awake.”

Manu barely resists the urge to fumble for a pillow to hit him over the head with. Instead, he huffs, his breath warm against Thomas' chest. He’s immediately calmed by fingers being carded through his hair, scratching at his scalp. As usual, it does _things_ to him, making his toes curl, his blood rushing to his cheeks while also slowly but surely wandering further south. He shifts, lets his hand wander over Thomas’ side, slowly but with clear intent – stroking, caressing, ready to slip under the waistband of Thomas’ shorts –

A hand around his wrist stops him gently but firmly.

When Manu snaps his head back up, brows furrowed, Thomas is grinning a crooked half-grin.

“We can’t. Lisa asked me to be at the stables by nine, so we can get the preparations for the afternoon done before I have to be back for training. Sorry, sweetheart,” he adds, looking rather remorseful, easily picking up on Manu’s disappointment. 

He lifts his right hand, brushing Manu’s fringe to the side with nimble fingers before curling them around the back of Manu’s head, guiding him upwards for the first proper kiss of the day. Then, his hand firmly on Manu’s shoulder and he pushes away, sitting up in the process.

“C’mon, let’s make breakfast.”

Of course, as usual, Thomas isn’t involved in the actual making of breakfast – and as much as Manu would at times appreciate the help, it’s usually the safer bet to cook it on his own. As it is, Thomas is standing next to him while Manu is making French toast, leaning against the counter, chattering mindlessly, filling the kitchen with noise as his coffee grows cold and forgotten where he’d left it ten minutes earlier.

Sometimes, Manu remembers how mornings used to be before. Quiet, empty. Almost boring, really. He can’t imagine it being like that anymore. Now, he misses Thomas’ presence already whenever they have to spend more than a few days apart, misses his warm laughter, the soft yet voluminous tone of his voice, the hand knotted into Manu’s t-shirt at his hip, drawing circles into his skin through the thin fabric,

He sighs softly, shaking his head at himself, how sometimes, it’s still unreal how lucky he is. Married, for a year already, to a _man_ , to the love of his life. 

To Thomas.

He’s living the life his 28-year-old self didn’t even dare to yearn, never mind hope for.

After breakfast, Thomas says goodbye with a peck on the corner of Manu’s mouth, leaving him with a wink and a dorky little wave that makes Manu’s stomach tumble merrily with happiness.

Immediately, It’s different without him there, and for a moment, Manu wonders what to do with his time until the cyber training starts. He almost startles when he feels something bump into his leg.

Momo is looking at him with wide eyes, smiling her best doggy smile. She barks up at him before sprinting towards the door, stopping just barely before crashing into it, looking at him expectantly.

Manu chuckles. “Walk it is,” he grins. Momo yaps her agreement with clear satisfaction.

Walking the dog is one of the rare things he still does outside these days. It’s colder than he expected, the icy wind biting at his cheeks. He regrets not bringing a scarf or a hat, and tugs his collar up as far as he can.

The sky is overcast, and during the entire thirty minutes, Manu meets no one. It’s uncanny, how empty the world seems these days. With all the shops closed, most people are not even going outside for work anymore – especially during bad weather like this, it is literally palpable, how different things are now.

Manu sighs, burying his hands in his pockets as Momo bustles through a pile of leaves, rotting and leftover from autumn, now visible again after the last snow melted a few weeks back. He kicks a pebble ahead of him for a while, grinding his teeth when that already makes him miss football, miss the training and his teammates, miss the crowd roaring his name and the sweet, satisfying taste of a win fresh on his lips. Misses the rain falling on him in the Allianz Arena, smudges of grass on his elbows. He misses all of it. And who even knows when things will return to being as they were?

It’s a bitter thought, and one that probably has crossed everyone’s minds these days. But there’s nothing Manu can do about it.

Still, it lingers, and thus, as Manu comes back home, he finds that instead of clearing his head, the walk has only heavied it. He’s still lost in thought as he carefully puts Momo’s leash away, toeing out of his shoes and storing them neatly into the shelf next to Thomas’ haphazardly placed ones. The sight of them alone makes Manu smile, reminding him that despite the general situation, he’s got many things to be happy about.

Thomas makes it home just shortly before cyber training, a wide smile on his face, smelling of fresh straw and that old, warm and comfortable smell that is reminiscent of a warm October day that Manu has to come to associate with the horses. He leaves for the showers with a grin, but not before putting a hand on the back of Manu’s head, raising on his tippy toes to press a lingering kiss against Manu’s forehead and a “I’ll be right back with you, love.”

Of course, he isn’t really. They’re recording the training sessions for the fans now, so despite the entire team being in the know by now, they have to go through their routines in separate spaces, which is a bit of a bummer, but Kathleen promised them a surprise, and well …

So, Manu settles in the gym while Thomas remains upstairs. His husband winks at him through the camera when they start the stream first thing, obviously prompting a few comments from their teammates – Leon even wolf-whistles at them, but both captains pointedly ignore him.

The surprise, as it turns out, is Basti. As in, Bastian Schweinsteiger. 

Manu couldn’t have expected the way seeing his former teammate sends him reeling.

It’s not Basti himself, of course, who has such an effect on him. No, Basti looks happy. His temples have gone a little bit greyer still, his smile is wide and relaxed and he looks genuinely happy to see them all. The others cheer, and Manu grins when he’s acting just like the little shit he’s always been while Thomas starts doing something else halfway through the cycling (because of course he does – honestly, Manu can barely resist fondly rolling his eyes at the sight) … no, it’s it not that.

Instead, seeing Basti blend in with them so seamlessly sends him back to the years when he still played for Bayern, back to the time when Manu was at one of the, if not _the_ high point of his career, but when his own emotions had been going through the biggest turmoil he’s ever felt in is life. Of the time when he struggled to accept himself, of when he still found himself, in the end, too. Of when he, for the first time ever, developed a real, proper crush; when he fell in love – even when it was a love that at the time was still hopelessly one-sided.

It's a sobering experience to suddenly, once again, become aware of how far he has come. He’s at peace with himself now, something which back then seemed unimaginable. And by sheer miracle, he’s now married to the same man he started loving all those years ago.

He never expected he could end up here, with Thomas’ ring on his finger, his laughter in his ear. He’s out to his team, even, a team he’s, despite his sexuality, still the captain of – and everyone respects him just the same as they always have.

He takes a deep breath. It feels a bit shaky and he finds that he’s glad for the exercises he goes through as if on autopilot. It’s only when their fitness coach tells them that they’re done that Manu finally becomes aware of Thomas’ eyes quietly trained on him, mustering him right down to his very core.

Manu sighs.

The trek back upstairs feels longer than usual, and Thomas waits for him with his arms hanging at his side, and his mouth tight with concern. His hands come up to rest on Manu’s upper arms, his touch gentle and comforting in a way that makes Manu’s heart clench and soar above the clouds at the same time.

“Schatz? Are you okay? You seemed kind of out of it just there.” Thomas’ voice is soft-spoken, something that might seem out of character for people who don’t know him well, but for Manu, it’s the voice he likes the most – a reminder that this is his lover talking to him, not just his teammate any longer. Thomas, who knows him better than anyone, who out of all the people in the world chose _him._

A smile tugs at Manu's mouth then, lingering there for a second before it takes over his entire soul as he crashes forward, wrapping Thomas so tightly in his arms that his husband gasps loudly before hugging him back with a chuckle. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Thomas pats his back, blowing a kiss against his neck before prying an unwilling Manu away from his body. “Careful, big guy. I still need to wrangle some horses today, and I plan to use my stamina for something else tonight, too.” He winks, and Manu can’t help the shiver running down his spine even if he doesn’t particularly appreciate the reminder that they’ll have to spend yet another part of their anniversary apart from each other.

Thomas promised that tomorrow, on Manu’s birthday, they’re going to be together all the time, but they both know that should something come up with the horses, he’d probably have to leave again. 

As it is, after another session of slow, lazy kissing on the couch, Thomas leaves him with a pile of magazines and a ruffle of his hair. It’s getting too long again, Manu thinks, running his fingers through the short strands. Thomas likes it this way, but Manu’s started to itch for a cut the longer the sides aren’t cropped closely to his scalp anymore.

He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, but when he gets roused again it’s by a distinct smell coming from the kitchen.

The smell of something burning.

He’s on his feet faster than when a ball is approaching his goal.

“Thommy?!” 

It’s achingly familiar, the way Thomas stands in the middle of Manu’s kitchen looking a mix between outraged, lost and defeated. It’s exactly that expression and all the events leading to it that has had Manu banning him from said kitchen for anything cooking-related that’s more difficult than a pasta sauce or a simple breakfast.

But it’s darn precious, how he tries again and again to surprise Manu with a home-cooked meal.

Well, Manu thinks as he eyes the mess Thomas has managed to create in what can’t have been more than the one hour he’s been home, surprise him he certainly did.

“Babe, really? Again?”

Thomas shrugs non-committally. His grin is lopsided and slightly sheepish though, as if he already knows that Manu will forgive him anything – and that he’s touched nevertheless.

Manu chuckles fondly, shaking his head in disbelief before sighing deeply, stepping into the kitchen. First, he takes whatever’s burning to a crisp in that pan from the stove, then gently bumps his hip against Thomas’ until he gives in, making room for Manu to start working his magic.

The coq au vin is actually quite easily saved; Thomas even marinated the chicken thighs quite right, Manu notes appreciatively (maybe his lessons had bumped into some fertile soil, after all) – only the first round of onions have to be thrown into the trash. Manu feels almost as proud as Thomas looks that they’ve managed to steer away from potential disaster. 

When he finally carries the finished plates into the living room about forty minutes later, he very nearly tears up when he sees how lovingly his husband has decorated the dining table, making it feel like a date rather than a normal night in after all.

Thomas rubs his side when Manu just stands there, gaping.

“Surprise,” he says, voice so terribly fond, hooking his chin over Manu’s shoulder, “At least one part of it that worked out as it should.”

Manu rubs his nose, chuckling wetly – dammit, what’s going on with him today, he’s not usually this emotional – before turning his head slightly, gazing into Thomas' eyes who is looking at him with a wide smile. The kiss they exchange is soft, slow – but they pull away hastily when Thomas’ hands come up to steady the plates Manu’s is still holding. The food almost slipped off them, Thomas’ instincts having saved them just so from yet another almost-disaster.

“Careful there,” he snickers, eyebrows raised mockingly. Manu gently elbows him into the side in reply before rolling his eyes, setting the plates down.

Once they’ve taken a seat, Thomas takes Manu’s free hand on top of the table. It’s a gesture so casual, so ingrained in their daily routine that it should be nothing special, should be just an afterthought – but today of all days Manu finds himself pondering the warm feeling of Thomas’ palm against his own, how well their fingers slot together …

Thomas’ hands are nearly as big as Manu’s own, but his fingers are more nimble, a lot more slender than Manu’s thicker, sturdier ones. They look less used too and the skin is softer, without any obvious marks on them. Manu’s own seem so different in comparison, covered with little bruises, a collection of scratches and some tiny scars running over them. But still, they look perfect like that, resting on the dark wood tabletop, locked together.

Thomas thumbs over the back of his hand, and it prompts Manu to look up, blue steel eyes meeting curiously bi-coloured ones – one hazle and one a greyish blue. His smile has grown softer, less teasing; that private, loving smile only Manu is privy to.

“Happy wedding anniversary. Can’t believe it’s been one year since I’ve made it legally known that my heart will be yours forever.”

_God._

Don’t cry, Manu.

It doesn’t help, of course, and Manu sniffles, rubbing his nose with the sleeve of his sweater that he has pulled over his hand, eyes stinging and his heart jumping and dancing.

“Love you too,” he manages to get out in between tiny hiccups, his embarrassment easing when he sees tears shining in Thomas’ eyes as well.

He squeezes Thomas’ hand. His husband squeezes back.

They eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, but of course, it doesn’t last for long.

His ability to fill every room with words and life, creating a comfortable, easy atmosphere even in the most tense situations has been something that has drawn Manu to Thomas from the start. It compensates the fact that Manu himself is rather taciturn, would rather listen than talk – or maybe compensate isn’t the right word for it. No, they’re just two halves of a perfect unity in so many things.

For the umpteenth time that day, Manu is wondering how he ever got some damn lucky. How he found someone who understands him so perfectly, who he works so well with – even as friends they’d already been an amazing team, working together like a well-oiled machine, to the point where their teammates had started teasing them about finishing each other’s sentences and they way they were never far apart. Started calling them an old-married couple.

And now, that’s what they have become.

With a soft smile, Manu observes Thomas as he talks animatedly, using the hand holding his fork to emphasize his words, seemingly having forgotten about the food. Some people might get annoyed over the so-called Radio Müller, the fact that Thomas almost never shuts up, but Manu loves it – couldn’t live without it, really. He watches him fondly, and happiness pools in his stomach like water falling from a waterfall into a glistening, clear basin on a warm summer’s day.

“Manu?”

Of course, Thomas has noticed that he’s not really listening to him. He doesn’t really mind, Manu knows, but he still offers his husband a meek smile.

Thomas chuckles as he leans forward, and suddenly his palm is warm against Manu’s cheek as he thumbs over his cheekbones in slow, calculated motions. Manu puts his own hand over it, letting them become one, closing his eyes as Thomas pulls him in.

“Hi there, love,” Thomas whispers and their lips meet, and it’s achingly familiar, and it’s the best thing.

At the beginning, Manu had worried that the feeling of their kisses might lose their novelty with time, that it can’t possibly always feel like that – instead, he’s grown even more addicted to the feeling of Thomas’ lips against his, and it has only become more intense, more wonderful over the years.

It's a feeling he couldn't have pictured before, but knowing now what it's like to be in love and be loved back just as fiercely, he understands that this type of love is not something that could ever just go away; not from the start, not after all this time –

Ten years since they first met. Almost four that they’ve been a couple. Married for one.

– and Manu’s feelings are the same ones that rushed through him the first time they held hands with intent, the first time they kissed, the first time they slept together, the first time they secretly cuddled in the back of the team bus, hidden away in the shadows.

Thomas breaks the kiss, that private smile gracing his lips yet again. He takes Manu’s hand, pulling him up, into him until their bodies are completely aligned. 

Together.

One.

And not only is it that a fact; it’s a promise.


	2. Thursday Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I raised the rating for this chapter, so feel free to skip it, the 'plot' will continue in the next chapter ^^

They rush upstairs holding hands, Manu in front of Thomas, tugging him along, laughing, stumbling. He almost falls when he reaches the top of the stairs, then just barely manages to sit down on the last step, looking up at Thomas who is standing a few steps below him, his eyes sparkling, their hands still linked. The dim light coming from downstairs casts shadows over his face, but Manu can still read the fondness in his eyes, the way they caress Manu’s features so obviously, so loving that it makes Manu’s heart race fast and faster.

Thomas untangles their fingers and lays both hands on Manu’s shoulders. His palms are warm, radiating through the thin fabric of the shirt Manu is wearing, thumbing over Manu’s neck before his hands come up to frame Manu’s face as he bows down, leaning in for a kiss.

Their teeth clack together awkwardly as they both try to take it too fast at first, getting overwhelmed by their passion. It makes Manu chuckle into Thomas’ mouth, a noise that quickly transforms into a whimper when Thomas buries one hand in his hair, tugging at the loose strands gently but insistently.

Manu gets up, foot getting caught on the edge of the step and so he tumbles, only managing to keep himself from falling because of his goalkeeper instincts, one hand on the ground to brace his fall, getting to his feet with an awkward giggle as he hears Thomas snicker at his misfortune. Manu flips him off over his shoulder and struts towards their open bedroom door without checking for him – Thomas reaches him just in time, hands on Manu’s waist, drawing hot circles with his fingers before gripping him tighter, guiding him inside the room before turning him around and pressing Manu again the wall, kissing him hotly.

Whining, Manu throws his arms around his husband’s shoulders, pulling him closer. If his head wasn’t already clouded by lust and Thomas’ awakening erection digging into his thigh, he would have pondered once more how well their lips fit together, as if they were made to meet, destined to fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. No one else’s kisses have managed to make Manu’s world stop like that, like everything around them was fading to gray. 

Thomas’ licks softly over Manu’s top lip, and Manu opens his mouth willingly, a sigh getting lost in between them when Thomas flicks his tongue against Manu’s, warm and smooth.

There’s a beauty to just making out in the dark, slowly, with their noses bumping together before they quickly adapt and angle their heads just right. Manu pulls away slightly, kissing the corner of Thomas’ mouth before Thomas grips his jaw, resuming the kiss; more heated this time, hungrier, their bodies even closer. 

It’s obvious by now what effect all of this has on them both, and Manu finds the change in pace exciting, even when they both knew already after dinner – when Thomas had ghosted his hand over the back of Manu’s pants as Manu was drying the dishes before letting it rest there, squeezing his buttock through his jeans – where this was going.

After all this time together they’re intimately acquainted with every part of each other’s body, with every turn on, every sensitive spot. Yet, it never loses any of its excitement whenever Thomas’ arms circle his waist as they do now, hands slipping under the waistband of his pants, under his boxers, finding warm, rounded skin, sliding in deep until it feels scandalous, exciting, and so incredibly hot.

Manu throws his head back, throat exposed for Thomas to latch onto, moan slipping from lips wide open, arms tightening around Thomas’ shoulders until not even a sheet of paper could fit between them.

Thomas’ words are almost lost as he presses them against Manu’s skin, but Manu catches them just barely–

“So perfect, Manu, god, you’re so gorgeous. I can’t wait to spread you out on our sheets like I’m sure you want to so badly.” He hums against Manu’s collarbones, lapping at them, “Do you want that, beautiful?”

– Manu does.

He can’t wait, really, to sink down onto the soft silk sheets – they’re a fashionable dark blue, upon Manu’s request, but the shade is hidden by the darkness of the night, making them appear pitch black – knotting his fingers into them as Thomas licks up his stomach and down to where Manu’s manhood is awaiting them so eagerly–

Thomas seems to have slightly different plans, though. His hands move to Manu’s hips again, walking him backwards, still kissing him all over his face, clumsily, with kisses ending up in his ear instead of his cheekbone, his chin instead of his cheek, on his left eyebrow …

They almost topple over again when they finally bump into the edge of the bed, but instead Manu just plops his butt down on it with an “uff”, feeling his eyes widen in surprise. Thomas lets out a surprised cackle before he lifts his right hand to gently stroke Manu’s cheek, settling his left on his shoulder, pushing away.

Manu watches appreciatively as Thomas strips, noticing the glint in the other’s eyes, realizing that he’s putting on a show for him by the way Thomas is sliding his pants over his hips, rocking his hips, but then not bothering to go slow with his shirt, instead he just pulls it over his head, throwing it haphazardly to the side.

His husband’s torso is fair, even in the darkness of their bedroom, covered in little birthmarks that Manu is unable to make out in the dark, lithe but toned with hard muscles that he has traced with his fingertips so many times, mapping every valley, ever bump, mystified with strange wonder, sometimes still in disbelief that he’s allowed to touch Thomas like this.

He wants to reach out now, too, but before he has lifted his hand, Thomas is done, tugging at Manu’s shirt as well, urging him to take it off.

A little shiver runs through Manu when his bare skin is greeted by the chill of the night, caressed by Thomas’ appreciative gaze. Goosebumps form on his arms, and when Thomas doesn’t budge, only staring as his pupils dilate further, making his eyes appear almost black, Manu raises on his knees, pushing down his sweatpants and his boxers in one go, depositing them in front of the bed.

He leans back, scooting backwards until he has to pull up his legs, spreading them seductively as he props himself up on his elbows. His dick twitches when he watches Thomas bite down on his bottom lip, hard – Manu wouldn’t be surprised if it drew blood – before approaching slowly – and then suddenly, he’s on Manu’, his mouth hot, breathing into him as he encloses his hand around Manu’s stiff manhood.

It feels like absolution, finally being touched. And yet, as Manu whines, arching his back, this is not what he needs most.

“Need you,” he whimpers, and Thomas chuckles darkly.

Oh, Manu knows well that that sound means he’s in trouble. 

Thomas takes his wrist from where Manu has his hand knotted into the sheets, his grip firm but gentle at the same time, guiding Manu’s own hand further down, brushing them teasingly over Manu’s tight balls until Manu feels his own fingers bumping against his rim.

“Touch yourself,” Thomas says, and Manu groans, shuddering, missing Thomas’ touch, even the hand around his wrist when the younger pulls away, just watching, waiting once more. If he was still coherent, Manu would probably wonder where the hell he’s taking his restraint from. Manu himself is almost rock-hard at this point, moaning shamelessly as he pushes the first finger in. He doesn’t get far dry, but one finger hasn’t been a challenge for a long while, and it’s not enough, never enough–

Thomas clearly struggles with taking his eyes off him, but when he sees Manu huffing and puffing, frustrated as he tries to insert a second finger, he comes to sit on the bed too, shuffling closer, his face so close to Manu’s that it’s almost impossible to not kiss him again as he reaches past him, his warm breath hitting Manu’s skin as he opens the drawer of the bedside table, taking out the lube.

When he pulls away, lifting his eyebrows mirthfully as if it’s just a game to him, fucking bastard, Manu sulkily extends his left hand, feeling it tremble as he waits for the cold cream to drip into his palm before he can pull out, coating his fingers with it before inserting them yet again, pumping in and out slowly to give himself time to adjust, with as much restraint as he can muster, biting down on his bottom lip until he tastes iron in his mouth, eyelids fluttering close.

Fingering himself hardly ever happens when Thomas is there, too. Usually, it’s not really necessary to prepare him like this, unless they’ve been apart for an extended amount of time, and if it happens nevertheless, it’s always Thomas who spreads his fingers inside Manu’s waiting body, mapping out the territory, flicking them teasingly. 

To masturbate on his own, though, at this point, fingering is almost a necessity for Manu.

Sure, his right hand closed around his dick is enough to make him feel flustered – he’s just a man, after all – but to get himself really worked up, whining and stuttering even when there’s no one around, he’ll always find himself prodding, sliding inside, scissoring his fingers, adding a third one … yes, that never fails to get him to climax ridiculously fast.

He can’t remember if they’ve ever done it like this, with Thomas just watching, so close yet so far away. It’s inexplicably hot, if he’s being honest, this invisible separation but to feel Thomas’ eyes on him as he gets himself worked up all the same, and he feels his heart stutter, erection growing larger as he searches for his sweet spot, panting, whimpering; yet wishing for Thomas’ always-warm hands on his body, inside him, around him.

The thought makes his fingers twitch, and Manu throws his head back with a loud moan, growing more desperate – and then finally,  _ finally _ he hears Thomas groan too, voice throaty and rough, grinding like sandpaper against all of Manu’s senses.

Finally, Thomas leans forward, hovering over Manu’s body while resting one hand on Manu’s strong, thick thigh, pushing his legs further apart so he fits between them comfortably while the other stroking up and down Manu’s side, movements growing fevered, hasty. 

His lust is clouded in a dusk that lingers in the air, making Manu feel intoxicated; and yet, he feels so damn loved when Thomas leans down, kissing Manu’s cheek, whispering in his ear. Manu doesn’t really know what he’s saying, can’t make it out through the blood roaring in his eardrums, but the praising tone alone makes him keen.

He would have been close if Thomas hadn’t stopped him right there. Once again, Manu feels slender fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling his hand out and pinning it to the side in a way that makes Manu’s head spin. He’s almost ready to burst when finally, he feels something blunt press against his quivering hole, Thomas’ cock familiar and yet so exciting every damn time, and Manu moans when his husband finally enters him, filling him just right, making him feel whole.

At this point, he doesn’t even think of trying to suppress his moans anymore, gasping and whimpering, tossing around Thomas picks up pace, fucking him, lips still moving against Manu’s neck, licking over the sensitive spot behind his ear, the snap of his hips strong, hitting Manu’s sweet spot every time in well-rehearsed motions, ballsack pressed tightly against Manu’s ass with each and every thrust.

Manu squints his eyes closed, but they fly open again when he feels Thomas hand on his cheek, caressing in frantic movements as he blinks down at him with wide eyes before leaning in for another kiss, drinking Manu’s groans hungrily. 

All he can feel, all he can hear, encompassed by the sharp smell of his sweat, everywhere around him is Thomas. Maybe it should make him feel caged, but instead it makes him feel protected, comforted.  _ Loved. _

He whimpers, bites down on his bottom lip, and Thomas laughs, breathlessly, as if in disbelief, hotly caressing Manu’s stomach.

“Look at you. God, Manuel, I love you.”

Manu wails in desperate pleasure, hand knotted into Thomas' side, pulling him closer, deeper into him until all of him is inside Manu, and then finally, Thomas shows him some mercy.

His hand closes around Manu’s leaking cock, squeezing it once, twice, and that’s all it takes.

Thomas thrusts once more as Manu feels his body rise above the clouds, soaring, nested into their sheets with his head thrown back, hair stuck to his forehead, as he spills all over Thomas’ hand, mewling in pleasure as he feels Thomas painting his insides white, hot and oh so familiar, wriggling gently to get just a tiny bit more friction out of his slack, wrought body, sighing softly when he comes down from his high and Thomas crashes against his chest, limbs limp and heavy.

Thomas’ curls are sticky with sweat, yet gathered into more pronounced ringlets than usual when he nudges his head against the underside of Manu’s jaw. He sighs, his breath warm and stuttering, their heartbeats aligned and in sync now as they slowly come down from their high together.

Manu wraps a tired, heavy arm around his husband, pulling him closer, reveling in this soft afterglow that’s become one of the moments he’s come to treasure most. He’s too exhausted to budge, and for a while, neither of them say anything. 

Then, Thomas stirs, propping himself up on his elbow, head resting on his hand as he smiles down at Manu. This is the Thomas no one else gets to see, Manu thinks, and it makes him feel so damn thankful, he could honestly cry.

“Manu? Was that okay?” he’s still sporting a small smile, but something is flickering through his eyes, something almost unsure.

Manu pauses. An odd time for his husband to be insecure, but who is Manu to leave him wondering. With a surprising amount of effort – every part of him wants to sleep, now – he lifts his hand, putting it on Thomas’, entwining their fingers.

“I loved it. I love you.”

Immediately, a grin appears on Thomas’ lips again, wide and blinding, and he bows down, claiming Manu’s lips in a short, affectionate peck. “I’m glad. That was really hot, big guy. You’re so filthy sometimes. Such a sight.” The last words are mumbled against Manu’s cheek, slurring together as his lips brush against coarse stubble,

Manu giggles, feeling his face heat up as he hides his face away in between the pillow and Thomas’ head.

“No, really!” Manu can’t see Thomas’ smile, but he can hear it so clearly, and even though he still has this shyness coming over him sometimes, he knows that this is where he can be who he is, where he can shamelessly enjoy what he likes, where he knows he’s safe, loved, at home.

Right here, with Thomas sighing softly against his chest, his arm heavy on Manu’s stomach.

They’re almost too tired to move at all at this point, but eventually Thomas groans and fumbles for a cloth to clean them up, doing so slowly but thoroughly. At first, Manu had found this to be a hassle but by now he has come to enjoy this kind of lazy, warm attention too, eyes almost falling close a few times. 

Then, Thomas’ strokes stop, and instead, he tugs at the duvet, trying to get it from underneath them. Manu lifts his hips, then turns onto his side, and yet, it’s still stuck. 

Thomas chuckles, lifting his hand and carding his fingers through Manu’s hair. “Guess you have to move, love.”

Manu groans in protest, then rolls to the very edge of the bed with the grace of a beached walrus. He buries his face in the mattress, just barely managing to keep his balance before he could fall onto the ground. There is rustling behind him, and when he turns back around, eyes barely open at this point anymore, Thomas is there, duvet and eyebrows raised expectantly. He looks sleepy, too, and it makes him look younger and softer –

And as Manu quickly shuffles closer, cuddling into his side, he finds that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.


	3. Friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did I whip this up on a whim yesterday when I felt like crap? yep. do I hope it's good enough to be read still? hopefully ^^'

If this was a romance movie, Manu would wake on the morning of his 34th birthday perfectly bundled into Thomas’ arms yet again; comfortable, perfectly at peace – but of course, it’s a rare occurrence that mornings like that happen a few times in a row.

No, instead he wakes up with Thomas’ arm thrown straight across Manu’s face, his own nose half mushed against his husband’s chest and a sunray directly hitting his eyes, making him squint and mutter some curses under his breath. His nose tickles, and his sneeze just barely gets muffled into Thomas’ skin, causing him, inevitably, to stir.

Thomas yawns, rubbing the back of his hand over his half-closed eyes.

“Bless you,” he mumbles, burying his nose in Manu’s hair, rearranging the misplaced arm and pulling Manu closer to him in the process, tempted by the promise of a few more minutes of rest, in a more comfortable position this time.

But Manu is, annoyingly, awake, so of course, he won’t let him.

“Didn’t you forget something?”

Thomas hides a sleepy snicker in Manu’s hair, a rumbling, deep sound, hand coming up to join it, gently scratching Manu’s scalp, making him let out a soft, content purr.

“As if I could ever forget. Happy birthday, old man.”

Manu rolls off Thomas and onto his back, then, fixing his husband with a ‘really? again?’ stare but Thomas only chuckles, reaching out for him again, hands wanting and warm against Manu’s shoulders, and Manu feels his body complying, melting into his touch before his mind even can decide to.

Snuggling back up to Thomas finally puts him in that lazy, enjoyable morning mood he’s been craving ever since he first opened his eyes, sighing softly when Thomas’ hands continue their light caresses, barely there but yet speaking so easily, so casually of all the love between them and everything that they share – a love like the light filtering through the blinds or waves crushing on a beach, true and forever, but also a love passionate like a dance on a summer night.

Manu doesn’t need to look in a mirror to take note of the marks all over his neck and shoulders, doesn’t need to see Thomas’ back to know that it’s scratched from Manu’s tight grip. Can feel the memory of last night in his soul and on his body, feeling it mingle with the tender intimacy of this – a morning, shared, together, for the hundredth, thousandth time–

A promise kept, lived, savoured.

It isn’t that he can’t believe that they’re here, like this, because he can. It’s the sheer wonder of the fact that this doesn’t feel unbelievable anymore, that instead, he’s grown to know that this – Thomas and him, he and Thomas – will always be their reality.

Manu almost wants too roll his eyes at himself when he realizes that evidently, yesterday’s sappiness still lingers, but finds that he doesn’t need to. Not when all of it feels right.

Instead, he pokes his fingers into Thomas’ side.

“Hey, Thommy?”

“Hmm?”

Thomas isn’t, actually, a man of many words when he’s just woken up. Sure, once he’s dressed and up on his feet, it’s different – then he quickly morphs into the chattering, regular version of himself, but like this, he’s soft and pliant and happy to simply hold onto the treasure in his arms and let himself enjoy this moment quietly.

Manu knows this, and it makes him feel almost a little light-headed – but as it is, his stomach is grumbling, demanding to be listened to.

“Could you make breakfast?”

Okay, it’s risky, asking him to do that, especially on Manu’s birthday, a day when he’d like as few complications as possible – but he knows they have the necessary stuff for scrambled eggs and bacon and a simple avocado sandwich in the house, something Thomas is used to whipping up on his own, something Manu enjoys. And now, today, they’ve got all the time in the world.

Thomas cranes his neck, leaning forward to press a kiss against Manu’s temple, brushing the hair away from his forehead.

“Of course, babe. Anything for my Manu.”

God, he’s so cheesy.

Manu grins. Yep, he loves him so fucking much.

As Thomas is slipping into his jeans, pulling on a t-shirt, Manu stays wrapped in his blanket like a cocoon, blinking drowsily, getting sleepy again but still appreciating the view. He hides his smile in the pillow when Thomas throws a wink at him while he feels his eyelids dropping close again, taking him away.

It’s a comfortable slumber that he only wakes from when he feels fingers carding through his hair.

Thomas is sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, hair done, the metal of his wedding ring cool as it brushes against Manu’s cheek.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty. Your meal awaits.”

He snickers, and Manu fights the urge to flip him off. Instead, takes the hand Thomas is offering him, letting himself be pulled up.

Getting dressed so shortly after he’s woken up is always a hassle – he’s not a morning person, not at all, and even when he got used to always being on time in the mornings throughout his adulthood, he still hates getting up with a burning passion – but the scent of toast and bacon is guiding him, and he doesn’t let go of Thomas’ hand as they walk downstairs.

What he doesn’t expect is the cake waiting for him on the counter. It’s put separately from their breakfast, of course, still in its box but with the lid open, and Manu eyes it with growing curiosity.

One glance is enough to determine that it can’t have been made by Thomas – or any of their friends, for that matter. The finish is professional and incredibly neat, even if the design is a simple one.

It’s a simple one tier cake, covered with fondant. It looks like a jersey. Like the back of one, more accurately, spelling out ‘Bayern München, 34, Müller.’

His team, his age, his name.

_Müller._

Manu grins, his heart jumping in his chest.

It’s been a year, and sometimes he still can’t belive that him and Thomas share a last name now. 

He rarely uses it, is the thing. Of course, it’s what his passport says now, the nameplate on the mailbox of their shared townhouse stating T. + M. Müller, too, but of course, to pretty much everyone, he’s still known as Manuel Neuer. He doesn’t mind that, of course not, but it also means that every time he’s reminded of his new name, the reality of his secret, perfect life, that even when he has to hide, this is how things are and how they should be.

Manuel Müller.

That’s who he is.

Still, he didn’t expect this cake.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t even be getting one, being away with the team and all, didn’t know this was planned either. Thomas must have placed the order in secret, because he had no idea, and he looks entirely too pleased when Manu turns to look at him, eyebrows raised with a smile thats wide and unstoppable.

“Happy birthday, my love,” Thomas says, and his tone doesn’t sound at all as jokingly light as it did when they were still in bed, and instead is chock-full of everything he feels for Manu, unfiltered and honest.

His heart long not only on his sleeve, but in Manu’s hands, where it belongs.

Manu can only hope that Thomas knows that he feels just as strongly for him, too. And so, he packs everything he can into the beaming smile he gives Thomas as thanks when he takes his hand, pulling him in, burying his face in the crook of his husband’s neck, smiling.

“Thanks,” he whispers, and for a moment, the food and everything around them is forgotten.

Only until his stomach rumbles again, though, and Thomas laughs, hands sitting familiar on Manu’s hips as he pries them apart, kissing his cheek.

“Breakfast, now. Cake, later.” He winks; and so they do.

Afterwards, Thomas offers to clean up, too, an offer Manu readily accepts while he looks for Momo, who had, up until that moment, been napping next to the fireplace that hasn’t been in use for weeks already. He calls her with a whistle, and Thomas only waves at him from the kitchen when he grabs her leash, ready to walk a small morning route.

Just before he’s out of the door, he remembers his phone, pocketing it with a smile as he lets his eyes flick over all the happy birthday texts from friends and family, even fans.

It’s strange, sometimes, that so many people remember this seemingly unimportant date, that they care about it. Some days, he’s still not used to being known. Celebrity is a weird word, and most days, he doesn’t feel like it even applies to him – still, he’s grateful, touched that people care.

Once he’s turned the three corners he needs to reach the path by the shore, he pulls the phone out of his pocket again, answering a few of the more important texts – Marcel, his school friend Felix … the one from his mother makes his lips twitch with a smile.

He’s humming quietly as the phone rings, kicking a pebble ahead. Momo barks at a few seagulls crying on the water a few meters away of them.

Manu startles when his mam picks up the phone, but in true goalkeeper fashion, he doesn’t drop it.

“Honey?”

“Hi, Mam, hey.” He can feel his lips pull into a smile, happy at hearing her voice, at ease. It hasn’t always been like this, but for a few years now they have been talking about everything again, now that he’s no longer holding back.

She laugh softly, clearly happy to hear his voice. “Happy birthday, my dear. I miss you.”

Manu can’t see her smile, but he can picture it so clearly. 

Truth is, it’s been nine years since he moved halfway across the country, but just like anyone, he still misses her as well. A lot, even, sometimes.

“Miss you too, Mam. Have have you been doing?” 

He’s worried, these days. Most of his friends have concerns when it comes to their parents, too, roles suddenly reversed, and even though his mother perfectly healthy, it isn’t always easy to calm the irrational thoughts down. Not being there. Not being anywhere close should anything happen. 

She can feel him worrying, she must have, because her chuckle is warm, reassuring. “I’m alright, honey, everything’s fine don’t you worry. Perfectly fine. How about you, though? How is Thomas?”

Manu shuffles his foot, kicking one of the pebbles into the lake. It sinks to the bottom with a quiet ‘plop’. 

He still isn’t sure if she’s forgiven him, really, for the fact that he didn’t tell her that he’d be getting married. In fact, him and Thomas had only informed her and Thomas’ parents a few days later, once they’d been back to training, their ‘honeymoon’ already over. She’d been disappointed, to say the least, that they wouldn’t have an event to celebrate their union, even when she understood that they wanted to keep the actual vows, the promise they made, to themselves, especially after everything else in their lives being so extremely public.

“I just wish I could have shared experience with you, you know?” she’d said, and Manu knew. It was why he’d secretly planned to have a reception, a vow renewal maybe, a few years down the line, with everyone there, from the start. It’s what he told Thomas, what he wanted. To have that, once they finally will be able to without fearing it could get out. Once they’re retired. 

Once they’re– and it feels wild to even think it, never mind that it might become an actual reality; impossible but addicting – maybe even out.

(What would people think if they knew that he – twice a captain, one of Germany’s most accomplished players – was married to his teammate? He doesn’t wanna think about it, not now, to be honest. Not when he’s this happy.)

He sighs, deciding to not think about what not yet is. “He’s great. We had a lovely day, yesterday. He bought me a cake.”

“I’m glad.” His mother’s voice is warm, familiar, like a comforting touch. “One year already. One year my baby has been married.”

When he’d been a little bit younger, in his early twenties, late teens, Manu was often a little bit annoyed that she still at times saw him as her little boy, her youngest son who always hung onto her coattails. Now, he knows that it’s just how she expresses her love, and it evokes memories that he loves to relive. Knows that she’s always loved him exactly like he was. Is.

They talk about this and that for a little bit longer, and it feels good, effortless, as if there were never any walls between them at all, even when it had taken almost years to tear them back down after Manu had built them for his own protection. Only when Manu checks the time does he realize that they’ve been on the phone for over an hour.

His mother leaves him with yet another row of congratulations, promising to call should something occur, him in turn agreeing to visit together with Thomas as soon as it would be possible again.

Momo chews on her leash, tugging at it, urging him to go on.

When he returns to the house, it’s almost eleven already and Thomas greets him with his eyebrows raised and a smile that’s a bit tight around the corners.

“Mam,” Manu says, shrugging apologetically, and all tension drops from Thomas’ shoulders at once. He slings his arms around Manu’s waist, and the kiss they share is as simple as breathing – it feels just as vital, too.

They have sandwiches for lunch and after, Thomas slips into the kitchen only to return with the cake, two empty plates and two forks. They don’t have any regular candles, he states regretfully, but Manu only chuckles, taking his hand. He doesn’t mind, he says, and Thomas’ eyes glint with relief as he grins, putting one leftover sparkling candle from Christmas into the white fondant instead.

Manu closes his eyes when he blows them out, his hand locked with Thomas’–

He can’t deny that he gasps a little when he finally sinks the knife into the soft cake and sees colour instead of a lack of it – his suspicions get confirmed when he pulls out a thin slice, six different layers in six vibrant colours.

Goddammit, Thomas.

He’d actually went and ordered him a rainbow flag cake.

“It’s a little bit cheesy, I admit,” Thomas says, but he’s grinning, and Manu is speechless, touched, smiling – and this feels like him. Feels right to celebrate it.

Despite the shocking colours that food decidedly shouldn’t have, the texture of the actual cake is fluffy and it takes like lemons, the buttercream in between the layers smooth and not too sweet. They both have another piece even if they shouldn’t, they share a joke about it, and it feels like bliss.

Manu regrets it, of course, when they have training thirty minutes later, but in the end, the little indulgence was absolutely worth it, still. Thomas winks at him through the camera, more subtly this time, and for once, no one but Manu catches it. Manu grins.

Once they’re finished, they end up on the couch again, spread all across it. Manu’s head is in Thomas’ lap; he’s reading a book while Thomas is fiddling with his phone. Sometimes, Manu cranes his neck to peer up at him, trying to decipher his proud smile, eventually giving up when Thomas’ attention is not to be torn away from the small screen.

The TV is playing in the background and it’s easy to get absorbed, and so, Manu almost startles when Thomas suddenly drops his hand onto Manu’s stomach, the spread palm warm and familiar.

Thomas is grinning, that shit-eating grin that always graces his features when he’s done something vaguely stupid and/or ridiculous, and so, with an exaggerated sigh, Manu fumbles for his phone on the coffee table.

He checks Twitter first, then Instagram, rolling his eyes when he sees the new posts, yet unable to fight the fond smile from taking over his face.

“‘Hopefully we will see us the next days at the training arena’?”

Thomas purses his lips slightly, somehow still managing to grin at the same time. 

“Well, I do hope we can soon start training again. And I do hope you’ll be there with me. After all, no one has to know that is hardly the only time I’ve been seeing you.” He leaves it unmentioned that by now, there are quite a few people who _do_ know, who will tease them mercilessly once they get back together.

Manu snorts, shaking his head. Thomas keeps on smiling, though, and his hand wanders from Manu’s stomach to his shoulders before he bends down, placing a kiss on Manu’s forehead. 

Manu giggles, and his heart soars.

Every day anew, he lives with Thomas, works with him, loves him – loving him a bit more with every morning that comes and goes. And hopefully, he’ll get to have it until death does them part – 

No, not hopefully.

Definitely.

**Author's Note:**

> I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way. Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


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